


These Violent Delights

by o0Siomha0o



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Mobfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), F/M, Mentions of Cancer, Past Character Death, Past Lives, Past Violence, Possible Character Death, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader can dance, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Soulmates, possible future smut, reader is female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0Siomha0o/pseuds/o0Siomha0o
Summary: "These violent delights have violent endsAnd in their triumph die, like fire and powder,Which, as they kiss, consume."-William ShakespeareDespite your better judgement you agree to start working at the nightclub owned by the local monster mob. You know it’s begging for trouble, but something inside you tells you that this is where you should be. You know it’s only a matter of time before you get burned, you can only hope that is will be at the hands of the purple fire elemental behind the bar.~Tags will be updated when appropriate~





	1. Show The World

Who the hell thought that recreating LA Noire in Ebott City would be a good idea? You look over your surroundings in amusement as the deer-like monster went to inform their boss of your arrival. Your eyes wandered from the crystal chandeliers, the cream coloured walls, the shiny cherry wood floor and everything in between. The old-fashioned dark red velvet booths on this end of the room, the raised stage on the other and the fast dance floor in the middle. Taking a seat on one of the stools of the bar located beside the booths. You took advantage of the wall of mirrors featured behind the crystal glasses and elaborate liquor bottles by doing a quick check of your hair and make-up. Absurd as it was to you, a nightclub in the style of a turn of the century bar in the middle of a 21st-century city, you couldn’t deny that it did hold a certain charm. No wonder it was so popular amongst those with born with money, and those wishing they had been.

The smart snaps of a pair of dress shoes drew your attention to a skeleton monster that you could only describe as sharp. From his pine striped suit to his bony features, it was all sharp straight lines. As he got closer you had to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact. The skeleton was both taller than you and in your personal space. For a long moment, all he did was glower down at you, the red of his eye lights smouldering like embers in his otherwise empty eye-sockets. You just kept your polite smile in place waiting for the other to, finally, say something. You were used to these sorts of intimidating tactics by now.

“SO, YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE, HUMAN?”

At this you couldn’t help but raise a brow, your smile getting a little cocky, “Oh, I know I can dance.”

Your little stare off continued for a moment longer before he took a step back and held out his hand. Slipping off the barstool you politely placed your hand in his. As you had expected he guided you to the dancefloor where he let go of your hand and bowed? For you? Your surprise only lasted a second as you automatically curtsied in response. It had been a while since you had done some proper ballroom dancing, but you didn’t doubt your skills for one second. He led you first into a waltz then a foxtrot then a salsa and many more different styles of dance.

To your surprise, he was one of the best dance partners you had had the pleasure of dancing with to date. Though not a word was spoken he managed to telegraph exactly when you’d switch styles and what was up next. You found yourself enjoying dancing with him. It had been so long since the last time you had had the honour of dancing with such a skilled partner you had almost forgotten how much fun it was.

With your skirt still settling down from your latest twirl, the sound of metal hitting metal rang through the hall. Your partner brought you to a halt and you bowed to each other again. You had no idea how long you’d been dancing but you could feel sweat pricking on the back of your neck. Thankfully your leg was still fine, the braces were doing their job.

“Brava! Brava! That was simply exquisite, don’t you think so Papyrus?” Mettaton, the famous robot monster and club owner had appeared on stage. Clearly, he’d been watching the both of you for some time now.

“YES, THE HUMAN’S DANCING SKILLS ARE OF AN ACCEPTABLE LEVEL,” the skeleton monster, Papyrus, agreed. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was always this loud? And why was he using the word ‘human’ as a term of degradation? Before you could wonder whether asking either question was a smart idea Mettaton caught your attention by looking straight at you with a devilish smile on his lips, “Clearly you know how to dance with an experienced dancer leading you, but how good are you on your own?”

Clenching your jaw, you managed to not take the bait of the thinly veiled insult to your dancing skills. Instead, you took a deep breath, counted to ten and then unclench your jaw. Show; don’t tell. “Why don’t you give me a beat and find out?” you asked politely. There is amusement on his face as he pulls a remote from a pocket hidden by the jacket of his suit, a moment later music fills the hall.

The first thing you notice is how amazing the acoustic is, the next is the fact that you’re very familiar with the song being played. It’s a remix of one of Mettaton’s biggest hits ‘Show the World’. The exact same song that had played during the audition that had launched your career to the top. It felt symbolic and very bittersweet. Papyrus had left your side to stand by the edge of the stage, the floor was all yours. You flashed both men a confident smile pushing away the pain those memories now brought with them and started dancing the moment the beat dropped.

You put your heart and soul into your every move, it had been so long, too long, since the last time you’d danced like this. Since you’d been able to dance like this. Fuck, how you had missed it. In that one moment, nothing mattered, it was just you and the rhythm of the dance. It was intoxicating.

You landed perfectly in your finishing pose right as the song ended, the silence that followed was deafening. Your two-man audience were as still as statues, their faces unreadable masks. Your breathing was heavy, and your heart pounded but you maintained your stance, awaiting their verdict. This routine had brought you to the top, if it wasn’t good enough for them then they could go suck cock in hell. Mettaton was the first who broke his mask, approval and amusement sparkling in his one visible eye a satisfied smile on his lips, “Darling, we have business to discuss.”

 

 

Finally! Leaning against the closed door you let out an exhausted sigh, home sweet home! Pulling off your heels while balancing the stack of papers you’d been given you let out a grateful moan as your entire foot touched the hardwood floor of your entrance hall. That was so much better. With your feet freed from your dancing heels, you pushed yourself off the door and made your way over to the kitchen. “How did it go!? Tell me everything!” The excited greeting from your best friend and roommate made you smile. Handing her the paperwork she let out a high-pitched squeal and gave you a clumsy hug while you grabbed your two ice packs from the freezer. You chuckled, she was always so easily excited, it was adorable.

“Eeeeee! I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you! This calls for a celebration, sushi for dinner!”

“Oh my god, yes, please! I am so hungry, you don’t want to know.”

Taking your seat at the dining table you pulled your skirt away from your leg and took off your sock and put up it on the chair next to you.

“Good! Because the delivery man should be within the next five minutes!” You look up to see her proud smile and your heart hurts with love and worry.

“Have I ever told you how much I fucking love you Willow?” you asked, “You are the absolute best. Come here you big assed weeb!”

Holding out your arms Willow moved quickly to receive her hug, chuckling as she did. “Love you too babe.” The doorbell rang interrupted your hug but announced the arrival of the sushi, so you couldn’t be too mad about the ruined moment. “Put ice on that leg of yours before it gets a mind of its own again, I’ll get the door.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed and smack her butt with your sock earning you a blep as walked out of the kitchen. You remove the braces from your knee and ankle and grimace. There was no pain yet, but there was some swelling. Maybe you shouldn’t have dismissed Willow’s idea of bringing a pair of flats with you. Your finger traced the longest slightly elevated red line that marred your knee. Before your mind could take a bad trip down memory lane you wrapped the ice packs in the towels that lay by your seat and put them on your knee and ankle. Hiding the still healing scars from sight.

 

“So?” Willow hedged ones all the sushi she had ordered was divided up between the two of you.

“So, what?” you asked confused putting some wasabi on your salmon sashimi.

“What is their offer?” she elaborated, “I saw a suspicious lack of autographs, what’s got you hesitating?”

“The salary is great; the hours are within my new ‘limitations’.” The word leaves a foul taste in your mouth that you rinse out with some sake. Willow gives you a sympathetic look but doesn’t comment so you carry on: “It’s just one part of the job description that has me going ‘huh?’ I thought that this was going to be like my old job. Dancing up a show every night that switches ones a week while also rehearsing a more extravagant one that we’d do once a month, you know, something like that.”

“You’ve got me very curious as to what is your job description is?” Willow’s eyes sparkled like they always did when she thought she was about to get something to gossip about.

“Performer, which is the expected part, and taxi dancer,” you answered, knowing it wasn’t the answer she had hoped for.

“What?” she asked clearly confused.

“Yeah they had to explain the term to me as well,” you admitted, “Apparently, in 1900’s Americana there were dancing halls that hired young women as dancers to dance with the male clientele.”

“Uhm…”

“Think of it like the carnival, you get a bunch of tickets and then you can go on the rides and stuff. This was sort of the same, only one ticket would earn you a dance for a single number with the taxi dancer of your choice. At the end of the night, the women got paid based on how many tickets they had gathered.”

“But you just said that the salary is great. How can it be great if it depends on how many guys you can convince to pay to dance with you? No offence, if there is anyone that can get a guy to pay her to dance with him without it getting weird it’s you, but I don’t know…”

“The salary in the contract is the baseline, the ‘tickets’ I collect dancing will get added on like tips, but yeah, it’s weird and why I wanted some time to think about it.”

You both took a few bites of your warming sushi as you mulled over the concept of taxi dancers in a modern-day nightclub. Willow was the first to break the silence.

“But it’s just dancing, right?” she asked, “No dances with a ‘happy end’, right?”

You nodded, that had been where your mind had gone as well when they had explained the concept to you.

“No having sex with clients during hours, if we want to bang someone, we have to do it on our time.” you quoted Mettaton’s answer making Willow snort into her sake, you smile as well, “I don’t really see it gaining traction, but they seem convinced it will. I mean sure, it fits with the entire aesthetic of the club, but I don’t know a single guy that is willing to pay a girl to dance with him, let alone pay her per song. Fortunately, there is also the normal part of dancing a show and a solo each night.”

“Maybe the rumours are true,” Willow mused, knowing full well that that would peak your interest.

“What rumours?” you inquired.

“Oh, haven’t you heard them yet?” she asked innocently, “I know you haven’t been back home that long but still.”

“Just tell me, will you?”

She simply raised a brow at you and you rolled your eyes. Picking up one of your slices of sashimi you held it out to her, “Pretty please with wasabi on top?”

Grinning the took ate the slice slowly, deliberately taking her time. She was such a tease, you both hated and loved her for it.

“Rumour has it that the club is a just a big cover for the local monster mob,” she said after having also taken a sip of a sake, “At least that is what my dad told me.”

“Not much of a rumour if it’s from a police officer, now is it?” you teased trying to hide your concerns about having agreed to a job offer from a mobster.

“True,” she admitted, “But the public doesn’t know that is what the police think as well, so for most it’s just a rumour.”

You eat the last of your half of the sushi. Your mind mulling over the fact that you had been in the office of mobster a mere hour ago. It did explain the salary they offered. Your kneejerk reaction was to be appealed and decline the offer and find work elsewhere. But the more you thought about it the more you wondered if it really mattered? There was nothing illegal about being a dancer at a nightclub even if the club itself wasn’t completely legal. As long as you stayed away from anything illegal that might be going on behind closed doors you’d be fine. And it wasn’t like there were any other vacancies for a dancer with ‘limitations’ that didn’t involve taking your clothes off.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the rumour before I left?” you asked.

“Because you were so excited…” Willow answered with a sad smile, “I know how much you love dancing and how hard the past year has been on you… I didn’t want to be a Debby Downer about it… But now that you know, what are you going to do it?”

“I am going to eat my share of the mochi,” you joked trying to lighten the mood a little picking up the small treat and taking a bite, “And other than that, I don’t know… I need a job: the settlement isn’t going to last me forever and unless one of the dancing schools in the area gets a vacancy before I go completely stir crazy this is my best bet…”

“So, you’re going to do it?”

“I… I don’t know… Maybe?”

“Well, just know that I think you are mad no matter what you decide, okay?”

Your grin matches hers, “We’re all mad here.”


	2. Love at First Glare?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You decide to go work at the club, but not everybody is happy with that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for all the love the first chapter has received. I had not expected it would do as well as it did. Not gonna lie, kinda worried about disappointing people now XD  
> Anyway, given the interest I feel the need to give you guys a heads-up, there is not going to be an uploading schedule for this fic. As those who have followed my previous story or follow me on Tumblr will already know I am currently struggling with some mental health problems. I am going to try to get chapters out at least once a week, but I can make no promises, sorry.  
> But on a more positive note, please let me know if there are any tropes or other stuff that you would like to see in the story, who knows it might inspire me!

You did not sleep well that night. Your mind went on for hours comparing every pro and con of the job offer. And when you finally had fallen asleep your ‘favourite’ nightmare made a reappearance. What was it with this city and you dreaming of dying in a house fire? Still, you had managed to drag yourself out of bed when Willow had thrown a pillow at the thin wall between your rooms. You had made a deal with each other, you weren’t allowed to hit the snooze button more than 5 times.

You prepped the coffee maker to make a full pot for the both of you before going on your morning run in the nearby park. No matter the time of day there were always plenty of people around, making you feel safe enough to jog alone. You had never been a fan of jogging, but your physiatrist had insisted upon you taking up the routine saying it could help with recovering usage of your leg. Things would probably never be as they once were, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try your hardest to come as close as possible. After having run around the park’s perimeter, you did your stretches and went back home for a much-needed hot cup of coffee and an equally hot shower.

Willow was sitting in her tabby cat kigurumi munching on some toast as you returned to the kitchen fully dressed. Providing yourself with a refill and a bowl of your favourite breakfast cereal.

“How are you doing, Mad Hatter,” Willow asked after you had taken a couple of bites, “Did your madness keep you up last night?”

“Yes, my dear Dormouse,” you sighed aimlessly pushing your flakes around in the milk, “It most certainly did, and I still haven’t decided yet.”

“Dormouse?!” Willow called out with faked insult making you smile, “I’m clearly the Cheshire Cat!” She held her hands up to her face, fingers curled in, mimicking cat paws, “Meow.”

“Is that so?” you played along amused, “Then do tell, my dear Cheshire, what happened to your stripes? Or your grin? Did the Red Queen steal them from you?”

“Would you be grinning if your stripes were stolen?” she asked with raised brows lowering her hands, “Worst of it is that she won’t give them back until I’ve earned them!”

You chuckled: “You’ve got to earn your stripes?”

“Ridiculous! I know!” she agreed, smiling, pleased you liked her little wordplay, “As for your madness, why not increase it? Wallow in it! Sanity is overrated.”

“So, you’re saying I should take the job?” you asked, “Why?”

“Because like you said last night, it’s your best bet,” she reminded you, “At least for the time being. You can always quite when something better pops up.”

That was true. Though a part of you wondered if you could really resign from working for a mobster, but another part argued that the offered job was perfectly legal. So, what if your boss was probably part of the monster mob? Sure, if something ever happened you’d get taken in for questioning but as long as you didn’t know anything you’d be fine. Ignorance is bliss.

“You’re right,” you said after your moment of contemplation, “Sanity is fucking overrated.”

Mettaton sounded very pleased when you called to let him know you were going to accept the offer. Ordering you to come over immediately to file your newly signed contract and to get your measurements for dance costumes. Willow nodded encouragingly, seemingly not minding that it would mean you couldn’t go with her to her appointment. You didn’t like cancelling on her like this, especially on such short notice, but you couldn’t risk immediately getting on your new boss’s bad side either, so you agreed.

 

Despite the unlocked front entrance, the club gave off the vibe that it was closed. Most of the lights were off, the few that were on casted strange elongated shadows. No one answered when you called out in confusion. Making your way over to the bar as you had been instructed to you checked the time on your phone. You were on time, maybe even a tad on the late side, so why did it seem like you were the only one there? Something was off.

Before you could reach the bar, you became aware of someone watching you. A moment later the resonance of your footsteps had changed ever so slightly. Someone was doing their best to hide their own footsteps by falling in stride with you perfectly. A small smirk curled your lips when you came to a sudden halt midstride and a step resounded through the quiet hall that wasn’t yours.

You could hear the soft rustling of fabric and, was that a chuckle? It sounded deep and unfamiliar. Whoever was trying to scare you with this little theatrical stunt was most likely male. His footsteps picked up again and you crossed your arms, waiting where you stood, making no move to turn around. Clearly the other had wanted to be dramatic about his introduction, why ruin it more than you already had?

“you’re a perceptive one, aren’t ya?” the voice sounded amused, standing right behind you. The comment stung a little, you wouldn’t be here if that was true.

“come on,” the voice continued, “don’t you know how to greet a new pal?”

At that you turned around on the spot, brows raised, and hip cocked: “Don’t you know it’s rude to invite someone over and then make it look like no one’s around?”

Before you stood a different skeleton monster then yesterday. This one was rounder in shape, but both his eyes and his teeth looked as sharp as Papyrus’. There was a startled look on his face for a moment, apparently not having expected your reaction, it was quickly replaced by amusement though.

“oh, you’re just a treat,” he grinned as he looked you over before holding out his hand, palm up, “name’s sans, sans the skeleton.”

You introduced yourself as you extended your hand to his. He surprised you by placing a polite kiss on the back of it rather than shaking it. What was it with monsters and old-fashioned civilities? Sure, it had its charm and old habits die hard, but still. It just seemed a bit redundant to you, though that might be due to the company you had kept before coming back to Ebott City.

With the pleasantries out of the way, Sans stared straight at you for a long unnerving moment. The intensity of his gaze enough to freeze you to your spot. You wanted to hunch your shoulders and wrap your arms around you, but you were unable to move your arms. You couldn’t tell if you were just that intimidated or if there was some outside force keeping you still. You disliked either option as much as the way he stared at you. It felt like he was looking into you, rather than at you. His stare borrowing into the very core of your being, judging what he found there. It wasn’t until he blinked, breaking off the stare that you realised you had been holding your breath. You inhaled a little shaky, what had just happened? A door opened, a strangely crackling male voice called out to the monster before you.

“Sans, the Don wishes to see you.”

More lights were turned on, making you blink a few times as your eyes adjusted to the sudden shift of luminosity in the room. Sans was gone when you could see clearly again. You looked around confused, he was nowhere to be seen, yet you had not heard him leave. What was going on here? Turning to the sound of someone rummaging with glass you found someone standing behind the bar, his back towards you. The door behind the bar now open, he must have been the one to turn on the lights and inform Sans. Uncertain of what to do and uncomfortable with the knowledge that apparently a Don was present in the building you continued on your way over to the bar. Distracting yourself by looking at the person behind it.

He had purple hair that seemed to move quite a bit. There must be an air-current right where he was standing you mused. But, the fur lining on his jacket seemed unaffected. Your confusion turned into wide-eyed awe as he turned around and you realised what you had mistaken for hair was actually fire. Purple fire. His face, his neck and his hands, all consisted of the same beautiful violet flames. You knew monsters came in a lot of different forms and sizes, but you had never seen one made of fire. It was entrancing to look at.

His eyes were big white-hot ovals as if he was as surprised by the sight of you as you were by the sight of him. His surprise didn’t last as long though. It was quickly replaced with a glare so full of hatred and pain that you didn’t dare take another step. You could feel the room getting warmer as his flames turned brighter and the crackling of a woodfire filled your ears. The glass he’d been polishing shattered in his grasp startling the both of you. His glare eased up into a look of annoyance as he looked down at the shards he was now holding. His flames lost some of the brightness as both the heat and the sound faded. Still, you didn’t dare move a muscle, let alone say anything. Instead, you simply watched as he scoffed at himself before disappearing through the door he had left open. What was his problem?!

“Ah, darling!” Mettaton’s voice startled you as he walked out from behind the stage curtains, “Sorry to keep you waiting. There was some stuff that needed to be sorted out, you know how it is. But enough diddling dawdling, let’s get your sizes so that our seamstresses can work their magic for your big debut next Friday.”

You gave him a polite smile and walked over to the stage, doing your best to ignore the strange pulling sensation in your chest. It was probably nothing. The next hour or two were not just spent with Mettaton and one of the seamstresses getting your sizes but also with them trying to figure out what colours and fabrics best suited your complexion. It didn’t involve a lot of effort on your end, which made the whole ordeal rather boring. You were glad you had listened to Willow though, heels would have made playing mannequin a lot more painful. At least now all you had to worry about was the occasionally misguided pin as fabrics were draped over you and pinned into different shapes to help Mettaton decide on a design for your debut dresses. One for your solo that evening and one for taxi dancing.

After Mettaton had, finally, made his decision he showed you the important locations backstage before taking you to his office again. There he filed away your contract and handed you an electronic key so that you could get in through the back door. When he asked if you had any questions you wisely kept your tongue. The only questions you had were either rude or best left unanswered. Ignorance is bliss.

As you left the office and headed towards the back door to take your leave the purple fire elemental from before stepped into the narrow hallway carrying a full crate of beer in each hand. The strange feeling in your chest returned. He seemed merely annoyed to cross your path again, that was until his gaze spotted the key in your hand. He stopped in his tracks and his flames flickered. His eyes went from the key to your face and back down again before he put the crates down with a bit more force than strictly necessary. The glass bottles clinking in protest to the rough treatment.

“No.”

The single word sounded like a roaring forest fire. His flames got brighter again and the temperature in the hallway went up. The amount of resentment rolling off him caused your own temper to flare to life. You were not going to be scared off that easily, not now you had made the choice of working here. You glared right back at him. Putting a hand on your hip, you raised your chin in defiance.

“No, what?!” you challenged.

“You are not welcome here,” he sneered, his hands balled into tight fists.

Before you could counter Sans appeared out of thin air between the both you, his back towards you. Shocked you took a small step back. What the hell?!

“jeez, chill out dude!” he said holding up both his hands, “no need to get yourself all fired up, she’s just the new dancing girl.”

“No!” Grillby repeated, the tips of his flames almost as bright as his eyes. It was painful to look at him now, but you weren’t going to look away.

“sorry man,” Sans said, “both the robot and the don have approved her.”

The sound of fire was becoming deafening but somehow a deep voice full of authority managed to ring over it, clear as day: “Grillby. My office. Now.”

For a long moment, Grillby just glared at you as you glared right back at him from over Sans shoulder. Before, without another word, he turned around and went up the flight of stairs at the end of the hallway. The slam of a door resounded not long after that. Sans turned towards you, a dark look on his face.

“the hell did you do to piss him off like that?!” he demanded to know.

“Fuck you!” you snapped, your temper still going strong, “I didn’t do anything! He’s the one with the problem!”

Sans kept looking at you with that dark calculating look before turning his gaze to the abandoned crates of beer, the plastic now slightly warped. Metallic footsteps came up behind you. Crossing your arms in front of you, you huffed and mentally prepared yourself to go job hunting again. Could life never give you a fucking break?! A pair of metal hands came to rest on your shoulders.

“Go home, my dear,” Mettaton said with a surprising amount of gentleness, you looked over your shoulder up at him. He gave you a reassuring smile, “We’ll take care of this.”

Sans made a gruff sound and stepped aside to give you room to leave. You just nodded and said goodbye a second time before walking out of the back door. You could feel their eyes borrowing into your back until the door fell shut behind you. You spend your entire commute back home wondering what the hell you had gotten yourself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is very welcome and much appreciated!  
> A special thank you to [ Social_Hermit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Social_Hermit/pseuds/Social_Hermit), [ Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge) and [ Cenerea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cenerea/pseuds/Cenerea) for being awesome beta readers!
> 
> Come join us at the [These Violent Delights Discord sever](https://discord.gg/FXQTFJE)! It’s a cosy little place where you can talk with other fans, share your favourite cocktail recipes and ask the characters that one burning question. 
> 
> Also, a huge shoutout to [ audaciousanonj](https://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/) for [ this amazing piece of art](http://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/post/181386151471/here-it-is-my-undertailsecretsanta-for) she created.
> 
> If you like this story, please check out my previous one [Wings of Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895625/chapters/22182890)  
> For random stuff, the occasional life update and RP's with my OC Angel check out [my Tumblr](https://wings-of-life.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. For the First Time in Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are always a lot of firsts when you get a new job. First time meeting everybody. First time rehearsing with everybody. First time getting ready with everybody. And most importantly, your first time dancing on stage again.

Your first rehearsal was both strangely nostalgic as well as a reminder of how far you had come, only to be back here again. The reason for that was the choreographer, Mr Barton. The man was a dancing king, he had won dozens of awards during his dancing career before he had stopped professionally and started teaching. Despite being in his late 50’s he was still highly regarded within the dancing community. His dancing schools were one of the best places to kick off a career in dancing. You would know, you had been one of his pupils.

It had been with a bittersweet smile that you greeted each other once again. He looked exactly like how you remembered. Leathery skin, white hair, charcoal turtleneck and sharp eyes. He knew what had happened, he had even sent you a card during your stay in the hospital, which made things a little easier. He’d keep your limits in mind. The troupe was full of strangers, you’d been worried about coming face to face with one of your old dance partners, but you were lucky.

That feeling changed when Mr Barton had them show you one the choreographies for the show you were expected to memorise before the weekend. They were by no means bad dancers, but it was a definite step down from what you were used to. These were dancers that danced for fun not to make a career out of it. The dance ended and a moment later they were all talking amongst each other, none of them waiting for critique from Mr Barton. You could feel his eyes on you and when all you could do was sigh he nodded.

“They have no desire to go professional,” he said softly so that only you could hear, “They’re here to make some quick money and have fun while doing it.”

“Definitely beats working in retail…” you mused, “Are they all taxi dancers as well?”

“Just Alex, Sarah and Cindy,” he explained nodding to the lean black girl, the porcelain petit redhead and the tan stout blond, “The rest didn’t make that cut.”

A troupe of 8 dancers, including yourself and only 4 were taxi dancers? You were getting a hunch that it would be best to keep an eye out for dance vacancies. Even with Mr Barton’s choreography, this gig wasn’t going to last.

He gave you a hard look, shaking you out of your thoughts and making you feel like you were 4 years old again: “This has a lot of potential especially now that you are a part of it. They’ll never reach professional levels but maybe having you as an example will spur them to try a bit harder. So, you have a choice to make here. You can either take it easy and lower down to their level or put some backbone into it and try to bring them all a bit closer to your level.”

You looked at each other for a long moment while you considered. It was tempting to put in the minimal amount of effort it would require of you to dance at the same level as the rest. Especially after having worked your butt off for so long, memorising and perfecting new complex choreographies within a matter of days every week, but that that had been part of why you had loved your job so much. You loved dancing and improving your skill and you had come so far. Sure, your new colleagues might not love dancing as much as you did but that didn’t mean you’d have to give up on becoming a better dancer still. And you had always wanted to one day be a dance teacher yourself, just like Mr Barton, this could be a nice trial run to see what that was like.

“Let’s do this,” you smiled at him. His eyes softened but his expression didn’t change. He wasn’t an easy man to please, but you knew his tells well enough to know that he was pleased with your response.

“Okay, places everyone!” he called out, while the others moved to retake their starting positions he introduced you to them, “Cindy and Sarah, make room on the first row for her. Get rid of those surprised faces! She became a student of mine the day she could walk, you can all learn a thing or two from her! Now, from the top, five, six, seven, eight!”

 

Alex came running into the changing room barefooted, heels in hand, she gave you a quick wave before disappearing into a cubicle. She was running late for the costume switch needed for the show. Cindy and Sarah were already in their costumes as were the rest of the troupe. Everyone, except for you. You had yet to step a foot inside the club during opening hours. Mettaton loved being theatrical which meant though you got paid for the full night you didn’t get to begin until it was time for your introduction solo this evening. So, you changed into your solo dress and were now taking your time putting on your makeup while also watching the pre-show rituals of the rest.

Cindy and Sarah were going through the steps together. Justine was reading on her phone. Sophia, Warren and Eldon were stretching and laughing together. It made you smile, your preshow jitters bubbling. You could hardly wait to get back on stage again, there was no doubt in your mind you were going to kick ass with your solo. It was simpler than what you were used to but that was fine. It was best to not draw too much attention to the difference in skill level between you and the rest. Alex plopped down next to you with a heavy sigh as she started retouching her makeup.

“So,” she said looking at you through her mirror, “Nervous yet?”

“Only the best kind of,” you grinned at her, “I’ve missed being on stage so much.”

“It is a great rush,” she agreed, “Thanks again for the vote of confidence after rehearsal today. I just never feel like I’m doing good enough for Mr Barton, you know?”

“Oh, don’t get me started!” you rolled your eyes, “The man is such a nightmare when it comes to giving out compliments. I really wish he would learn to express his approval more outwardly. Just keep in mind that as long as he’s not berating you, you are doing a good job. I know it sucks, but that’s just the way he is. Trust me, I’ve waisted so much energy on trying to get a compliment from him.”

“What’s the biggest ‘compliment’ he’s ever given you?”

“Oh, that was when I got accepted into going to LA. Can you guess what he said when I told him the news?”

“He just nodded?”

You shook your head, getting her to raise her brows: “He was doing paperwork when I had come into his office to tell him the good news. He didn’t even look up. All he said was ‘Of course what did you expect?’.”

“No!”

“Yup, that was the point where I gave up on ever getting a compliment from him,” you shrugged, “Despite the fact that he had not doubted that I would pass that audition he has never giving me any more approval then a nod at the end of a routine. So yeah, don’t expect any actual compliments out of him any time soon. If he’s not correcting you, you are doing a good job.”

“You sure?” Her uncertainty pulled at your heartstrings and you gave her a sympathetic smile. You could still vividly remember how much you had wanted Mr Barton to give you a compliment when you were younger.

“Positive,” you assured, “You’re a good dancer.”

A red light went on and for a moment there was silence before the pleasant chatter turned into the sound of hurried footsteps. The show was about to begin, and they had to get to their places in the wings. You wanted to come along with them, to watch from the sidelines but a cyclops monster stopped you.

“What? I’m not allowed to watch?” you asked indignant, crossing your arms in front of you. The monster closed its big eye and suddenly 2 more appeared in what you had thought to be just stripes on its forehead. The big eye opened slightly revealing teeth, it just shrugged: “Mettaton’s orders. You have to wait here until you’re on.”

It took you a moment to realise what it was talking about, distracted by the shift in facial features. Monster anatomy would never seize to blow your mind you. You just let out a huff, most of your annoyance had already faded due to the distraction, so you went back to sit by your mirror. You shot Willow a quick message to see if she was still up. It was midnight so it could go either way. After 10 minutes passed without a response you sighed and started playing some mobile games to kill time instead.

Damn the bus schedule. Of course, you could’ve just driven yourself to the club, but with the probability of costumers buying you a drink, or so Mettaton had claimed, you had opted to take the bus. Even if that meant waiting backstage for nearly an hour before you were due.

The red light went on again while you were in the middle of a level, typical, not that mobile games really mattered in the grand scheme of things but still. You quickly put your phone in your locker and made your way over to the wings. The music informed you that the last half of the shows final dance was currently being put on. If you hurry, you could still be able to catch a glimpse. Though before you could reach the curtains Mettaton walked by in front of you, distracting you from your goal.

“Wow.”

The word passed your lips before you could bite your tongue. In LA there was such a thing as too much glitter, but apparently not in EC. His entire tailcoat, pants and boots were covered in shiny paillettes that sparkled with even the slightest of movements. Yet, instead of it looking cheap he somehow managed to pull it off flawlessly. He turned towards you reminding you of a peacock fanning out its tail as he struck a pose. “Isn’t it fabulous, darling?”

“I don’t know,” you replied with a playful grin, “Kind of feel like you’re trying to out stage me and that on my introduction night!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he smirked, “All eyes will be on you.”

“Good,” you answered with faked confidence, suddenly uncertain whether or not that was a good thing. There had been something unsettling about his tone and the way he had looked at you. Sanity is fucking overrated you reminded yourself taking a deep stabilizing breath. The music came to an end and a good amount of applause followed shortly after. It sounded like the show had been a success. You were both happy for the rest and a little upset with yourself that you had missed your chance to get a glimpse of what they looked like on stage.

Mettaton took his microphone and walked onto the stage, clapping along before making a bridge from the show to your upcoming solo. Taking your place in the wing you had to stop yourself from peeking out. You were just so curious about what the club looked like during its opening hours. Going from the amount of applause it sounded like a good amount of people were present.

Alex manages to catch your eye as she waved at you from the other side of the stage. Her smile was a mile long and the others were looking just as excited making you smile right back at her. You gave her a small wave back, pre-show jitters rising in your belly all over again. You were about to perform again! What a wonderful feeling. She mouthed what you could only assume was supposed to be something along the lines of ‘break a leg’ before she was hurried off to the dressing area by a stagehand. Grimacing you gave your braces a final check, she didn’t know but it still stung a little.

A loud applause erupted as Mettaton called out your name pulling you from your thoughts. He clapped as well as he walked backwards off the stage as you came on. You smiled professionally at the crowd you knew was there but could hardly see with all the stage lights hiding the main floor in a sea of shadows. You assumed in your starting position and waited for the applause the fade and the music to begin. As the first notes filtered through the air your smile turned more genuine. Oh, how you had missed this.

You were in the middle of your song when every performer’s nightmare happened. Technical issues in front of an audience. The music glitched before coming to a full-on stop. Your heart skipped a beat, but your performance didn’t. Always finish your routine, no matter what. It was something Mr Barton had drilled into you after you had run off the stage during an audition as a child because you had made a mistake. So, you kept on dancing. Continuing the song in your head. From the corner of your eye, you could see Mettaton encouraging you to keep going while the stagehands desperately tried to fix whatever was wrong with the equipment. After a long moment of silence, someone in the shadowy crowd began to clap the beat of the song and soon others joined in. It wasn’t long before what sounded like the entire audience was clapping. It was enough to bring tears to your eyes. Tears you were desperately trying to keep from spilling, not wanting to ruin your makeup or give off the wrong impression.

Coming to your ending pose the clapping quickly turned into a standing ovation. You took your bow just as the lights flickered for a moment before not just the stage lights went back on, but also the chandeliers and the song before it was quickly silenced. Some laughter could be heard, including your own. Taking advantage of the lighting error you looked over the crowd before you.

It was easy to spot two types of people hanging out, those closest to the stage were a mixture of young adult humans and monsters, dressed for a night on the town. Then there was the group at the back of the room, that looked like they were predominately monsters. Most were either sitting in the booths or at the bar and they were all dressed like this was a gala event rather than a nightclub. We’re they the mobsters that ran the dark underbelly of EC? The chandeliers began to dim again, stripping you from your view as the stage lights once again hid everything beyond the stage in dark shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is very welcome and much appreciated!  
> A special thank you to [ Social_Hermit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Social_Hermit/pseuds/Social_Hermit), [ Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge) and [ Cenerea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cenerea/pseuds/Cenerea) for being awesome beta readers!
> 
> Come join us at the [These Violent Delights Discord sever](https://discord.gg/FXQTFJE)! It’s a cosy little place where you can talk with other fans, share your favourite cocktail recipes and ask the characters that one burning question. 
> 
> Also, a huge shoutout to [ audaciousanonj](https://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/) for [ this amazing piece of art](http://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/post/181386151471/here-it-is-my-undertailsecretsanta-for) she created.
> 
> If you like this story, please check out my previous one [Wings of Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895625/chapters/22182890)  
> For random stuff, the occasional life update and RP's with my OC Angel check out [my Tumblr](https://wings-of-life.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Dancing Through the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that you've been introduced to the crowd it is time to get them to dance with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this?! A new chapter?! OMG! Everybody panic!  
> But in all seriousness sorry for taking forever to get uploaded, life got in the way.  
> Hope it was worth the wait, thanks for reading it means a lot.
> 
> Quick question, are any of you lovely readers would be interested in becoming a beta reader? I could use maybe one or two peeps to help me make the chapters worth the wait. Let me know in the comments or on [my Tumblr](https://wings-of-life.tumblr.com/)

You part the stage curtains just enough to pass through them and are welcomed by a round of applause. You take your spot as you wait for Alex, Cindy and Sarah to join you on the small section before the curtains. There is a spotlight trained on each of you, but you can still see a good part of the crowd. Your eyes wander over everybody present, trying to spot the electronic bracelets that held the dancing tickets you needed to collect.

“Ladies and gentlemen get your dancing tickets ready!” a voice rang out over the speakers, “Our ladies are once again available to be your partner for a song!”

The applause died down and you ascended from the stage. The spotlights went out and you made your way over to the bar, the waiting area until you’d be asked to dance. Cindy was asked by a birdlike monster before you were even halfway. Sarah got whisked away by a plant monster shortly after that, leaving only Alex to keep you company as you took a seat at the far end of the bar. You tried to keep your eyes from wandering over to the other end of the bar where the booths were located, as well as Grillby, but couldn’t resist a quick glance.

The first thing you noticed were the three goat monsters sitting in the booth closest to the bar. You didn’t know a lot about monsters and the inner workings of their society but even you knew that they were the former royal family. Flustered you looked away quickly and turned to Alex who was eyeing the crowd, trying to entice someone into buying a dance with her.

“You okay?” she asked without taking her eyes off a small group of bunny monsters who were looking back at her.

“Yeah, fine,” you answer nonchalantly, “Just never expected to be in the same room as former royalty.”

“The Dreemurrs?” she questioned, and you nodded. Before she could say anything more one of the bunny monsters began making his way over to her and she slid off her stool, “Better get used to it, they’re regulars. And if I’m not mistaken one of them is coming over to dance with you.”

“What?!” Eyes wide with surprise you looked over to the booth the family occupied and indeed the former prince was making his towards you. Alex just gave you a wink when you looked back at her in alarm as she and the bunny monster made their way to the dance floor. Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to calm down, you could do this. It was just a dance or two. You’d be fine. So, what if he used to be a prince? And now, if Willow’s dad was right, the heir to EC’s biggest gang, nothing to worry about. It’d be fine.

The young goat monster came to a stop before you and held out his hand? Paw? Hand. You weren’t sure how to classify the extremity but smiled politely and placed your hand in it nonetheless as you slid off the stool. Letting go of your hand he held his bracelet to the one wrapped around your bicep. After a moment you could feel a small buzz and the light turned from white to green. As he lowered his arm he held it out for you making you feel like you were in one of those turn-of-the-century movies that your mom loved so much.

As soon as you began walking a path formed itself to the dancefloor, all the monsters stepped aside to let you or more specifically your dance partner through. You tried to convince yourself it was out of respect for his former position, with little success. When you reached the middle of the dance floor he took a step back and bowed to you and you automatically curtsied in return. He stepped forward again and led you into a foxtrot. He proved himself to be a great dance partner, letting you glide across the busy floor with such ease that it was almost enough to stop you from noticing how your every move was scrutinised.

The two of you danced for a few songs in comfortable silence, speeding up or slowing down as the beat dictated before he brought you a halt. However, instead of bowing again he placed a kiss on the back of the hand he was already holding. Flustered and surprised a small blush coloured your cheeks which seemed to amuse him.

“Thank you for the lovely dance,” he said sounding sincere, “I’ll be sure to make use of your service again in the future.”

“It would be my honour, Mr Dreemurr,” you answered politely, making him chuckle.

“Please, save that for my father. Call me Asriel.”

“As you wish, Asriel.”

He looked pleased as you obeyed his request. For a moment it looked like he was going to say something more, but he got tapped on the shoulder by a bunny monster from the group that had been eyeing Alex.

“May I cut in?”

“Of course!”

Asriel held his bracelet by yours until you could feel a small buzz and the light switched back to white. He nodded at you before melting back into the crowd, allowing the bunny monster to scan his bracelet. The bunny monster didn’t bother with the etiquette of bowing and instead immediately led you into a jive. It was quite a switch in styles but nothing you couldn’t handle. You matched his steps with ease and enthusiasm, enjoying the energetic rhythm the dance required.

You danced the night away, only sitting down whenever your bracelet buzzed and flickered yellow to let you know it was time for your breaks. The monster you’d been dancing with always offered to buy you a drink after having walked you back to the bar. Some stuck around to chitchat but most disappeared back into the crowd which gave you the chance to slip backstage to powder your nose both in the literal and figurative way. And as soon as your break was over someone was there to ask you to dance again. All in all, your first night went a lot better than you had anticipated, which left you feeling both exhausted and exhilarated as you step out of the back door into the cold night air.

Pulling your coat a little closer around you, you hurried your way over to the bus stop. Spurred on both by not wanting to miss your ride as well as your paranoia whispering at you that you were being followed. You tried to ignore it but were unable to shake the feeling. It wasn’t until you were safely on the bus that you spotted a car drive away in the shadows. A car you knew you’d seen parked in the club’s lot. A car that you recognised in an instant despite being it being obscured by the shadows. After all, it wasn’t every day you get to see a Rolls fucking Royce.

 

 

A loud knocking rudely awakened you. A full 15 minutes before your alarm was set to go off. Groaning you roll over and pulled the blanket up over your head. Not that she would stop until you responded.

“Is there a medical reason you’re banging on my door?” you ask both worried and annoyed, with Willow you never knew.

“Does dying from curiosity count?” she asked through the closed door.

“Only because you were stupid enough to claim to be the Cheshire Cat,” you groaned and got up now even more annoyed you missed out on those last few minutes of sleep. Hopefully, this would be a onetime thing.

“In that case, get your ass out of bed and bring me back with satisfaction!”

You frowned in confusion as you opened the door to let her in. Flipping on the lights as she went to sit on your unmade bed. She was still in her PJs, that wasn’t a good sign.

“Bring you back with satisfaction?”

“Yeah, that’s the second half of the saying. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. A lot of old sayings have a second part that changes their message but have been forgotten by most.”

“You have too much free time on your hands.”

“Maybe,” she simply shrugged with a bright smile that did little to hide how bad she was looking. Seemed like today was another bad day for her. At least you hadn’t heard her throw up, though that might also be due to her avoiding food again. Your mind mulled over how to best get her to agree to have breakfast with you while you changed into your sports clothes.

“So…,” she said interrupting your thoughts.

“So…?” you echoed.

“Tell me all about last night!” she bounced on your bed in anticipations. For a moment you wondered just how much of her current life she was trying to live through you. Not that you could blame her.

“I’ll tell you over breakfast,” you said, catching the narrowing of her mouth.

“I already had breakfast!” she sounded so sincere that you would’ve believed her if you didn’t know her tells.

“Then you can have lunch while I have breakfast,” you answered nonchalantly opening your curtains, letting the bright light of noon flood your room. From the corner of your eye, you could almost see the wheels in her head spinning undoubtedly trying to find a way around your suggestion without raising suspicion. Playing along with her ‘nothing-is-the-matter’ charade you carried on with your ‘morning’ routine of prepping the coffee maker before going on your run.

She still hadn’t changed out of her PJs when you returned, sweatier but more awake. She was sitting at the table with two pieces of untouched toast on a plate in front of her. She didn’t say anything as you walked by, the sombre expression on her face pulled at your heartstrings.

After a quick shower, with the bathroom door unlocked, you joined her with a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. A subtle tension sneaked into the room as you were the only one eating. Your bowl was almost empty when she let out a loud sigh and shoved the toast into her mouth as fast as she could manage. You grimaced, not because of the poor table manners, but because it meant you were right.

“Do you want me to drop you off at your mom’s work when I go to rehearsal?” you suggested as she forced herself to swallow the last of the toast. You could see her stop herself from shaking her head and turning it into a nod after a moment of consideration.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” she agreed, the bright smile from earlier nowhere to be found, “So, how was last night?”

“Things went really well! Outside of a technical issue during my introduction solo,” you grimaced at the memory, “I was almost dancing nonstop.”

“What happened during your solo? Did a one of those big light crash onto the stage? Is there a phantom?” She did a dramatic gasp before continuing, “The Phantom of the nightclub! That would make for an awesome anime!”

“Everything is an anime with you,” you smile, glad to see her perking up a little, “But no, thankfully it wasn’t something that dramatic or dangerous. The music just stopped out of nowhere, but it was fixed shortly after.”

“Lame, but glad to hear you had a good time. So, were you just dancing by yourself to try and get people to buy a dance with you or?”

“No, we’re not allowed to do that. We have a ‘waiting area’ where we’re expected to be when we’re not dancing with someone or on break. There was actually a good amount of customers that were willing to pay to dance with me. They were all monsters though. There were some human guys checking me out and a few asked me to dance but none of them were willing to pay.”

“Let me guess you were a sexy babe until you told them you were on the clock and then suddenly you were a greedy bitch?”

“Pretty much, the monsters were absolute gentlemen though! No wandering hands, no inappropriate comments and they could all dance! Mostly old-fashioned dances now that I think about it. I did a lot of swinging, jiving, lindy hopping. It was fun!”

“And your leg held up?”

“Sort of, there was some slight swelling but no pain. I just fastened my ice packs with some rubber bands to my leg so I could wear them while getting ready for bed. I know it’s not perfect, but I was too tired to do it the proper way and it’s better than nothing.”

Glancing at the clock you saw it was about time for you to get ready for rehearsal. Getting up you put the dishes in the dishwasher as Willow groaned.

“You know I’m not going to judge you for staying in your PJs all day,” you reminded her.

“You’re not but my mom’s colleagues are… Of course, they won’t say anything, but, you know.”

“Fuck them. Wear whatever makes you comfortable.”

Groaning again she put her head on her arms. Allowing yourself a wry smile, you give her a sidelong hug. After a moment she hugged back, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Okay, but before we leave I need to know one last very important thing!”

You looked at her with brows raised in question waiting for whatever the ‘one last very important thing’ was she wanted to know. Lifting her head from your shoulder there was a playfulness in her eyes that made you all the more curious.

“How are the drinks, Miss Sommelier?”

You laugh at the nickname, it’s been a long time since you’ve been called that. Sure, you could be a bit of an alcohol snob. Okay, you were quite the alcohol snob, but you couldn’t help it! Enjoying the taste of a good drink was highly underrated, especially by your peers.

“They are,” you paused for dramatic effect, “seriously amazing. You should come and try them sometime when you’re feeling better. Maybe then you’ll finally understand what I’ve been bitching about all this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is very welcome and much appreciated!  
> A special thank you to [ Social_Hermit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Social_Hermit/pseuds/Social_Hermit), [ Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge) and [ Cenerea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cenerea/pseuds/Cenerea) for being awesome beta readers!
> 
> Come join us at the [These Violent Delights Discord sever](https://discord.gg/FXQTFJE)! It’s a cosy little place where you can talk with other fans, share your favourite cocktail recipes and ask the characters that one burning question. 
> 
> Also, a huge shoutout to [ audaciousanonj](https://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/) for [ this amazing piece of art](http://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/post/181386151471/here-it-is-my-undertailsecretsanta-for) she created.
> 
> If you like this story, please check out my previous one [Wings of Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895625/chapters/22182890)  
> For random stuff, the occasional life update and RP's with my OC Angel check out [my Tumblr](https://wings-of-life.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. Little Firefly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a little firefly, aren’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG! You guys! These Violent Delights has almost reached a 100 kudos! Already?! What?! Thank you so much!  
> I kinda want to do something for when we reach a 100 but I don't know what. Leave your suggestions down in the comments below!  
> Speaking of comments, please know that though I am horrible at responding to them I do read each and every one of them and they really brighten up my day. For anyone who has commented, thank you so very much I really appreciate you taking the time and energy to do so. I'll try being better about responding to them!
> 
> Edit: Achievement unlocked: 100 kudos!  
> Fuck you guys work fast! XD Now I really need some suggestions what to do to celebrate! Thank you so very much all of you!

It’s strange how one moment everything feels like it is moving at the snail’s pace but in the next, weeks pass in the blink of an eye. Before you had started dancing at the club every day felt like a small eternity, but now you’re wondering how it’s possible three months had passed since then. The club now felt like your second home, a safe bubble filled with dancing and laughter. A place where you could pretend everything was fine. A place where you lose yourself in dancing to shut out everything that wasn’t.

If only you could make yourself believe that, but even in the beautiful soap bubble you had created for yourself you couldn’t escape the harsh reality. You blamed Grillby for it, though you couldn’t understand why. Ever since he’d been called into the office of the Don he’d ignored you completely. You should be fine with that given he had made it more than clear what he thought of you working here. Yet, you’ve made more than a few missteps while taxi dancing simply because you saw him lean in close to some woman at the bar. Why did it sting so much to see him flirt with female patrons? You didn’t even like the man! It was infuriating! He was infuriating!

You winked at Alex as she was dancing with a rare human patron willing to pay for a dance from your place at the bar. She rolled her eyes back at you, making you chuckle. The guy wasn’t much of a dancer, but she’d manage just fine, you were certain of it. She had improved a lot, just like the rest of the troupe now that you had managed to get everybody to take things a bit more serious. There was still quite a skill gap between you and the rest but at least now it was starting to close a little. Turning back to the bar you caught a glance of a busty human woman leaning forward a bit too much for the cut of her dress and Grillby not minding in the least. You grimaced and forced yourself to keep your eyes on your drink and ignore the strange stinging sensation in your chest. Involuntary you picked up on their conversation.

“That’s what people tell me, handsome.” She leaned in even closer and ran a finger over the back of his hand as he put her drink down in front of her. “What do you say? Want to have some fun later?”

Your grimace returned, and you picked up your drink. You could feel a pair of eyes on you, but you paid it no mind. Probably a patron that was waiting for your break to be over so that they could have a dance with you. Trying your hardest to block out their crap you focussed on the music that was playing, trying to decipher what was being sung. It wasn’t working though, you could still clearly hear Grillby’s chuckle. It reminded you of the gentle crackling and popping of a fireplace.

“You’re a little firefly, aren’t you?”

Your eyes went wide, and you slam your glass down onto the bar with far more force than necessary. Clenching your teeth, you glared at Grillby who looked at you, for the first time since you met, with what looked like something more than just surprise. You didn’t stick around to try and decipher what though. Feeling tears sting in your eyes you got up and fled to the dressing room. You didn’t even know why you were upset, all you knew was that you were hurt, a lot. Sitting down at your make-up table you couldn’t hold back your tears any longer. As the first roll down your cheeks, your beautiful bubble pops and everything comes crashing down.

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart.”

“No!” you immediately disagree, “It’s not! Nothing is okay!” It’s only after you’ve said that you realise you now have company, great. Lifting your head from your arms you see the blurry figure of, Sans? He was sitting in Sarah’s chair. He carefully puts a hand on your shoulder and offers you a purple handkerchief. It feels expensively smooth between your fingers making you hesitant about using it for anything other than fidgeting.

“What isn’t okay?” he asked gently.

“Everything!” you yell back, your temper mixing in with your sorrow, “My knee is permanently fucked up even more then the doctors had anticipated! Willow is doing worse by the day! And Grillby is a fucking man-whore!”

Was it your imagination or had there been a flash of amusement crossing his face at the last statement?

“Can’t disagree with you about Grillbz,” he said and gave your shoulder a squeeze, “But who is Willow? And what is wrong with your knee?”

You shook your head. Your anger had put a cork on your tears that would shoot loose the second you would explain either of those things. You didn’t want to break down crying again, especially not in front of an audience. Sans gave you a look that could only mean he was going to push the matter when your bracelet buzzed in the silent room. With a start, you realised your break was over and you looked like a crossing between a racoon and a Victoria Frances drawing. Grabbing your package of makeup wipes you quickly tried to wipe away your running mascara and ruined blush. You’d had to work fast but you knew you could still make yourself presentable enough to not tip off any patrons about your little breakdown.

“Ho! Wow! Sweetheart!” a bony hand wrapped around yours as you grabbed your blush, “Don’t worry about all that right now.”

“But Mettaton…” You tried but he interrupted, “Don’t worry about that rusty robot. Here,” he fished a bracelet out of his pocket and held it by yours until it took.

“But…” You tried again, and again he cut you off, “No buts. You now have to dance with me until I check out, but I don’t want you to dance with me, I want you to talk to me. Normally I don’t repeat myself, but for you sweetheart, I’ll make an exception this once. Who is Willow and what is wrong with your knee?”

As you struggled to find the right words you felt your eyes pricking and it wasn’t long before you were once again a sobbing mess. Sans scooted closer next to you and held you so that you cried on his shoulder. Hushing you whenever you tried to talk but all that came out was unintelligible blabbering. You were exhausted when you finally calmed down again. Still sniffling a little you lifted your head from his bony shoulder, your cheek sore and your eyes puffy. He took the handkerchief from you to wipe away your tears, no doubt ruining it. Mascara tears were such a nightmare to get out.

“Willow is my best friend,” you began explaining in a small voice fidgeting with the now damp handkerchief eyes cast down, “She’s… sick… Very sick. She’s a fighter! But… She’s been having some really bad days lately and they just seem to be getting worse and there is nothing that can really be done about it.”

“What? Can’t your human medicine help her?”

“It’s because of the medicine! She… It’s… The side-effects of the medication are hitting her hard this time around… I just… I’m scared that…”

“Hey, hey, I’m sure she’s going to be fine,” he tried to reassure, “Don’t really get human medicine with all its side-effects, but I’m sure she’ll be just fine once she no longer has to take it.”

You grimaced but choose to not go into further detail, mostly because you wanted to believe him. You want to believe him so much. So, you changed the subject.

“My knee…” you let out a deep sigh, “My knee is a long story. But the short version is I had an accident. And my knee got busted, among other things. But my knee… I…” You took a deep breath that you released slowly. Your throat tightening. “It’s not healing as well as… As hoped… I’d been told from the start that it would never be as it once was but…”

A silent tear slipped down but was brushed away as Sans cupped your cheek and raised your head so that you looked at him. You could see honest concern and sympathy in his crimson eye-lights.

“Why are you dancing if your knee is still healing?”

“Because dancing is my life. I’ve always danced ever since I could walk. Dancing is everything to me. And my knee is healed enough that I can dance, just… Just not… Professionally…”

He sighed and shook his head muttering something under his breath. It sounded like a different language, one that you didn’t know. He grabbed your hand and stood up, pulling you to your feet as he did.

“Come on, before the robot starts wondering where you are.” Before you could protest he pulled you along through dark and narrow hallways that made up the backstage area. You hadn’t had the chance to fix your makeup and you didn’t doubt there were mascara smears all over your cheeks. But he ignored your protests and requests of letting you check your reflection as you passed the bathrooms.

In a fit of annoyance, you tried to come to a standstill and tug your hand free from his, but all it did was make you stumble. With big eyes, you managed to regain your balance as Sans just kept on walking as if nothing had ever happened. Apparently, he was a lot stronger than his skeletal appearance suggested. That knowledge sparked the unwelcome reminder that a lot of the monster patrons were most likely mobsters, making you a bit uncomfortable.

You let Sans lead you meekly after that. Not even saying anything as he opened the door that brought the both of you to the wrong side of the bar. You immediately noticed Grillby’s absence. You weren’t sure if you were annoyed because you noticed that so fast or because of his absence. You weren’t given the time to think about it either. Sans had opened a section of the bar and dragged you along to an empty booth. As you went he called out an order to the human waitress that was currently manning the bar. His usual, whatever that was, and a glass of water for you. Though you were bothered that he didn’t ask you first you knew some water would be good for you. You had been bought quite a few drinks already and monster alcohol did hit a lot harder than regular alcohol. Which might explain the severity of your breakdown now that you thought about it. At least, you like that explanation better than really being that bothered by Grillby’s shameless flirting.

At the booth Sans waited for you to get in first, effectively trapping you between the wall and him. Something you weren’t sure how to feel about with his recent demonstration of strength. Not that there was much you could do. The waitress walked up and set down a whiskey glass with a strange yellow coloured drink in it in front of Sans. Distracted by wondering just what kind of a cocktail it could be, you didn’t notice that there were two glasses being placed in front of you. A glass of water as well as a wine glass with a golden coloured liquid in it. Frowning you looked over at the waitress who was already walking away. Sans placed a hand on your arm before you could say anything. Redirecting your confusion at him you notice he was looking over at the bar, where the actual bartender had returned, who was very much not looking in your direction.

“Flame boy isn’t normally one to hand out free anything,” Sans said as he turned back to you, “You can say he’s got money to burn.”

For a long moment, you just stared at him a slow smile curling the corners of your mouth, “What?”

He just shrugged and took a sip of whatever the concoction in his glass was. You followed his example and drank some of the water.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “I really like bowling.”

You gave him a confused look.

“No really!” he insisted, “It’s right up my alley!”

That got a surprised chuckle out of you which only seemed to spur him on. “Where do robots go for fun?”

“Where?” you asked, already smiling in anticipation.

“The circuits!”

You shake your head laughing despite yourself.

“I went to a costume party as a turtle once. I had a shell of a time!”

You gave him a push laughing, your mind letting you pretend, at least for the moment, that everything was fine again.

“Knock, knock,” the big grin on his face made you wonder what the punchline was going to be.

“Who’s there?”

“Boo.”

“Boo, who?”

“Oh, come on don’t cry! My jokes aren’t that bad!”

“You sure about that?” you challenge chuckling.

“Positive! I’m the pun-king,” he grins back at you and you just shook your head in amusement. He took another sip of his drink and you tilted your head in wonder. Noticing your not so subtle curiosity he holds out his glass to you.

“Uhm,” you hesitate, “What is it?”

“Why don’t you try and find out?” There was something about the glint in his eye-lights that makes you question if that was a good idea. Yet, your curiosity fuelled by the alcohol still going strong in your system got the better of you.

Taking the glass from him you sniff its content, frowning at the strange smell it provided. Was that a cocktail of whiskey and mustard? Was this some sort of variation on a Bloody Mary? Taking a careful sip your face scrunches up and you have to fight the urge to spit it back into the glass. A booming laugh begins beside you as Sans hits the top of the table, clearly amused by your distaste for his usual. You manage to swallow the horrible concoction, sending a shiver through you, after handing him back the glass. Grabbing your wine glass, you take in a mouthful of your own mystery drink in the hopes of getting rid of the taste of his.

“That was horrible!” you informed him not having been able to properly taste any of your own drink, though a faint sweetness lingered on your tongue.

“Aw, come on! Whiskey mustard isn’t that bad!” he sounded almost offended, almost. He probably would’ve managed if he wasn’t still shaking with laughter, “I should know I made it myself!”

“You ruined a perfectly good whiskey it what you did!”

He laughed again, and you took another sip of your mystery drink curious as to what it was. It was smooth and sweet, sweet enough to be a dessert wine. The aftertaste held a hint of honey. You felt strangely nostalgic over the taste even though you were certain you had never had something like this before.

“It’s called mead, sweetheart,” Sans said interrupting your thoughts. Blinking you realised you’d been staring at the glass with a slight frown on your face, “Do you like it?”

“It’s definitely better than your Frankenstein of a drink.”

“Heh, you always were picky about your alcohol.”

“What?!”

A sliver a fear had you tense up. How the hell did he know that?! Seemingly unfazed he pulled out his phone and showed you an old ‘news’ picture that had you cringing.

The picture was taken shortly after your arrival in Hollywood. You and your troupe had been hired to dance at the opening of a new luxurious winery. The son of the owner had taken an interest in you and had invited you to join the tasting afterwards. He had probably hoped to impress you or get you drunk but neither happened. If anything, he had been the one intimidated by you knowing the wines better than him. Turned into a real jerk after that making you regret accepting the invitation.

Noticing the negative affect the article seemed to have on your mood Sans put away his phone and started punning again. This time you were less easily amused but that didn’t seem to bother him. He just kept going until you were both laughing and groaning, and the last round was called out. The club was almost completely empty by then. Everybody still present was sitting either at the bar on in the booths. Sarah, Alex and Cindy had already disappeared to the dressing room, no sense in sticking around, nobody was going to buy a dance this late anyway.

“Heh, go on, sweetheart, I’ve taken up enough of your time,” Sans said as he stood up to let you out of the booth, “I’ll call you a cab.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you,” you said trying to sound sincere, “But that’s not necessary, I’m fine with taking the bus home.”

“Nonsense! Listen, I’ll pay the fare, least I can do after keeping you occupied for so long.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, I just…” Your stomach tightened at the thought of getting into a cab, alone, this late at night, “I prefer the bus is all.”

The red embers in the otherwise empty sockets seemed to glow a bit brighter as Sans looked at you for a long tense moment. You were unable to look at him, your eyes trained on the knot of his tie as you fidgeted with the purple handkerchief.

“Did something happen?” he asked, his voice soft but you could hear the underlying threat of danger.

“No,” you answered honestly, shaking your head. After a moment you added in barely more than a whisper: “Not to me…”

He made a thoughtful sound. He crossed his arms and you wondered if it would be okay for you to take your leave. As the waitresses began informing the remaining patrons that it was time to go you decided to take the risk. Bony fingers curled around your wrist before you were out of reach. Looking over your shoulder you caught Sans exchange a look with someone before looking at you.

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna let you take the bus,” he informed you, “And you don’t have to worry about the cab driver trying anything because I’ll be there with you.”

Though you knew he meant that to be comforting you weren’t sure if it really made you feel any better. Your eyes wandered to where he was holding your wrist, remembering the ease he had pulled you along earlier. Doubting if you could win this argument you resigned and nodded, it was probably just a one-time thing anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is very welcome and much appreciated!  
> A special thank you to [ Social_Hermit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Social_Hermit/pseuds/Social_Hermit), [ Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge) and [ Cenerea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cenerea/pseuds/Cenerea) for being awesome beta readers!
> 
> Come join us at the [These Violent Delights Discord sever](https://discord.gg/FXQTFJE)! It’s a cosy little place where you can talk with other fans, share your favourite cocktail recipes and ask the characters that one burning question. 
> 
> Also, a huge shoutout to [ audaciousanonj](https://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/) for [ this amazing piece of art](http://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/post/181386151471/here-it-is-my-undertailsecretsanta-for) she created.
> 
> If you like this story, please check out my previous one [Wings of Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895625/chapters/22182890)  
> For random stuff, the occasional life update and RP's with my OC Angel check out [my Tumblr](https://wings-of-life.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	6. Dream a Little Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calling in sick without being sick rarely comes without consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the last chapter when I said I wanted to do something to celebrate when we’d reach a 100 kudos? Well, you people freaking blew the kudos out of the water! Thank you SO very much for that, I was not expecting things to go this fast. But true to my word I have done something in honour of this milestone.  
> I would like to present you with the [These Violent Delights Discord sever](https://discord.gg/FXQTFJE)! My hope is it will become a fun little community where fans can mingle and bother the characters with questions. Come check it out and if you like what you see, feel free to stick around.

Upon your return from your morning run the next day, you found Willow sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table in the living room. On the table were several boxes and a big book in front of her. It’s a photo album, you notice taking a seat next to her, and the boxes are filled with more photos. She carefully positioned a photo of her and her parents in front of the Eiffel Tower underneath what you assume is a snapshot of the view from the top of the famous landmark.

“Feeling nostalgic?” you asked smiling, grabbing a polaroid from when you two graduated.

She rested her head on your shoulder and let out a deep sigh. “Maybe a little. You know that game where you can rewind time and jump into pictures to go back to that moment…”

You heeded her unspoken wish and put your arm around her, your thumb caressing her shoulder, and nodded understandingly: you couldn’t deny having entertained the same thoughts ever since the accident.

“Wasn’t that game’s lesson that, try as you may, there is no real way of changing the future?”

“No, you can change the future!” she countered, “It’s just… The price tag for doing so…”

You placed a lingering kiss on her temple, closing your eyes to push back the stinging tears, throat tightening. Life had dealt both of you a pretty shitty hand. The unremitting beeping of her phone broke the silence, indicating it was time for Willow’s medicine. A tear dripped onto the photo album and her shoulders began to shake. Putting down the polaroid, you turned towards her and held her tight as she broke down into a pool of tears.

“I just… W-w-w-want to be… Healthy! -again,” she hiccupped between sobs. “I-i-i-is that… really so much… to ask?!”

You struggled to fight back your own tears as you looked out of the window. You want to stay strong and not break down as well, but the familiar mountain view is blocked by the Willow from the polaroid. The Willow whose smile was as bright as the sun. Who was so full of life and boundless energy. Whose face was still framed by beautiful golden curls.

You call in sick that day, despite Willow’s half-hearted protests. You opt to spend the day watching a bunch of Studio Ghibli movies and the original Alice in Wonderland, which by the end seemed to cheer her up some, at least enough to hum along with a few of the songs. As the credits rolled across the screen, you looked over to find Willow had already fallen asleep. The way she was curled up in her corner of the couch reminded you of a cat. No wonder she had insisted on being the Cheshire Cat.

It was not late for you, but it was for her. You took the half-eaten bowl of popcorn from her, picked her blanket up from the floor and tucked her in before grabbing your own bowl and bringing them both to the kitchen. You were cleaning up the scattered leftovers of your movie marathon as quietly as you could manage when you accidentally knocked over your nearly empty glass of wine. The red liquid crept its way over to one of the photos on the other side of the coffee table. With a surge of adrenaline, you snatched the photo from the table and out of harm’s way. Letting out a sigh of relief, you threw some of the unused paper towels from your take-out dinner on the wine before it could threaten either the carpet or any of the other photos.

As the napkins turned red, you looked at the photo in your hand, turning it so that the candle would throw light on the image rather than shadows. It was the polaroid from before. A wry smile curled your lips as you remembered the conversation you had had earlier that day while looking at the photo. You still didn’t believe that you could change the future, but you wouldn’t mind revisiting that day either.

Lost in thought, it wasn’t until the corner of the photo caught fire that you noticed you had held it too close to the candle. In a panic, you shook the polaroid, trying to extinguish the flame, but it only got bigger, _fast_. The heat began to hurt your fingers and you were desperately looking around for a safe place to drop it when a hand covered yours. Startled, you let the photo fall right into one of the boxes with the rest; the fire instantly caught and spread, but you barely noticed. You were too enthralled by the purple flames enveloping the man standing before you. His free hand gently cupped your cheek as he leant down and rested his forehead against yours. You could see over the smoked lenses of his glasses into the white-hot ovals that were his eyes. You were overcome by a strange sense of calm even as the room around you got eaten by the ravenous flames. He smiled at you and interlaced his fingers with yours, his other hand moving from your cheek to the back of your head. “My little firefly…”

A sudden buzz had you sitting up straight and disoriented.

Fire!

The candle!

The photos!

Jumping up from the sofa, you lunged for the box you had dropped the polaroid into, only to realise that not only there was no fire, but there was also no candle. Confused, you moved the box to the couch, not convinced that it would be safe on the coffee table. You could still see the candle in your mind’s eye, and carefully reached out to where it would have been, expecting it to suddenly appear out of nowhere if you would only touch it. But nothing happened: the spot remained empty. With a groan, you sunk to the floor and leaned against the couch, your face in your hands. A dream, it had all been just a dream. Nothing more than a variation of your recurring house fire nightmare. A strange variation at that, you never had a guest before. You could still feel the warmth of his fingers and you hated it, or so you tried to convince yourself.

With a heavy sigh, you rubbed your face and looked over at Willow, who laid curled up on her side of the couch, fast asleep. You smiled. You turned off the TV, standing up, and began gathering up the dirty dishes. You were extra mindful of your wine glass this time around, and took it with you on your first trip to the kitchen. When you returned, you picked up your phone to pocket it, only for it to produce a short buzz. A missed message? At this hour? Maybe it was from someone in LA? But who? Puzzled, you unlocked your phone and saw that the text was from an unknown number asking you – by name – if you were okay. You were tempted to leave it unanswered until morning and discuss it with Willow before possibly responding, but your curiosity got the better of you.

_Who is this and why do you have my number?_

The other responded within the minute. _relax sweetheart just me sans_

Sans? You blinked in surprise. _Why are you texting me?_

_just wanted to know if youre okay. robot said you called in sick. your knee giving you trouble?_

You contemplated lying. Mettaton hadn’t asked what was wrong, just if you’d be back by Wednesday. You were tempted to just say yes, but then you remembered that you were talking to a mobster. Suddenly lying seemed like a horrible idea. _I’m fine. Willow needed some support._

There were a couple of minutes of silence that filled you with regret, worry and anxiety. Had honesty really been the best strategy here? Before you could get yourself too worked up, a new text came in.

_youre a good friend sweetheart. see ya wednesday_

A sigh of relief passed through your lips as your tensed shoulders relaxed.

Thanks, goodnight.

You turned off your phone and looked at Willow for a long moment. Should you have lied after all? Should you tell her that Sans knew about her? Should you have told Sans about her? Admittedly the first time had been an accident, and it wasn’t like you had said all that much. Just that you were best friends and that she was sick. Deciding you were stressing yourself out over probably nothing, you put the box of photos on the floor and curled back up on the couch with your own blanket.

 

Gasping to take in the fresh air, your throat feels raw and dry. You look at your surroundings, disoriented. Trying to grasp where you are and what just happened. There is a hand on your shoulder. Your gaze followed the arm up, finding a concerned face looking down at you. It took a few moments for your half-asleep, half-panicked mind to put a name to the familiar features.

“Willow?” you asked hoarsely.

“It’s okay. You’re awake now. Everything is fine.”

Blinking slowly, fragments of memories of being engulfed by fire and smoke – _so much smoke_ – resurfaced. You could still smell it, feel it clinging to your skin. With a groan and a sigh, you rubbed your face, trying to wake yourself up, but you only felt more drained.

“What time is it?”

“Almost noon…”

“Are you fucking serious?!” Sitting up you glanced at the clock to see for yourself if she was speaking the truth. How the hell did you sleep for this long and yet felt more exhausted than when you had been woken up by your phone in the middle of the night?!

Wait, did that exchange really happen? Or had that been part of the dream as well? The lines of what was real and what was fantasy were blurry in your mind. You stood up to resist the temptation of lying back down again and stretched out to loosen the stiffness in your spine. You notice that Willow is wearing normal, though comfortable, clothes, and that she is also carrying a bento box. Right, today was _that_ Monday.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Besides, you’ve still got to do your morning run.”

“I could jog in place and annoy the hell out of the staff and the rest of the patients.”

That got a small chuckle out of her, which made you smile.

“It’s fine, really. Go annoy the mothers with buggies for daring to use the path while they are blocking it.”

She grins at your annoyed look. You gave her a tight hug before going to your bedroom to change into your sporting gear. You heard the front door open and close while you’re putting on your socks. Grimacing, you began to pace up and down your room. The sensations of the nightmare have yet to dissipate, and you have to actively resist the urge to undress and take a shower. Picking up the shirt you had worn the night before, you give it a quick sniff to confirm that the stench of smoke was all in your head. It was just a nightmare. Yet, your throat felt raw. Maybe you’d been coughing in your sleep; it wouldn’t have been the first time, and just enough for Willow to wake you up. With a huff, you sit down on the edge of your bed. There is a restlessness in you that refuses to subside or submit to how tired the rest of you is feeling. It is an unease you were familiar with, however, and knew there was only one real way of getting it out of your system. But… You glanced down at your knee; your grimace darkened.

“Ugh!” you yelled throwing your hands in the air in a fit of frustration. After which you snatch up your bag as well as your phone, slamming the door on your way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is very welcome and much appreciated!  
> A special thank you to [ Social_Hermit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Social_Hermit/pseuds/Social_Hermit), [ Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge) and [ Cenerea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cenerea/pseuds/Cenerea) for being awesome beta readers!
> 
> Come join us at the [These Violent Delights Discord sever](https://discord.gg/FXQTFJE)! It’s a cosy little place where you can talk with other fans, share your favourite cocktail recipes and ask the characters that one burning question. 
> 
> Also, a huge shoutout to [ audaciousanonj](https://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/) for [ this amazing piece of art](http://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/post/181386151471/here-it-is-my-undertailsecretsanta-for) she created.
> 
> If you like this story, please check out my previous one [Wings of Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895625/chapters/22182890)  
> For random stuff, the occasional life update and RP's with my OC Angel check out [my Tumblr](https://wings-of-life.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	7. Know Your Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As one poor decision leads to another you are forced to take a break and grind it over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, was this chapter a pain to write. Big shout out to my beta's for helping me streamline the mess that was the first draft of it!

It used to be so normal: the endless hours spent rehearsing, the constant strive for absolute perfection, getting by on three or four hours of sleep each night. The strict diet. The mind games. The manipulation. The competitiveness, even within the same troupe. Forcing yourself through the fatigue and the pain. Hiding it all behind layers of makeup, fake smiles and hollow laughs. It had all been so… toxic. The rotten core at the heart of the beautiful apple you’d been working towards all your life. You hadn’t dared to challenge the status quo, and before you knew it, it had become your everyday.

But now, as you laid there in the empty ballet room with your knee throbbing in time with your heartbeat, you couldn’t turn a blind eye any longer. Years of dancing in LA had rooted themselves deep into your mind, making you forget the most important rule of dancing.

_Know your limits._

You had no idea how much time had passed since you had set foot into the deserted dance school, only that it had been too much. Lost to the music and to your emotions, you had ignored the warning pains and pushed through like LA had taught you to do. It felt like a slap in the face; the final wake-up call to inform you that there was no going back to how things used to be. They had been right to kick you out. You would have been of no use to them in these conditions.

Hot tears rolled down your face, but you wiped them away before they could fall onto the wooden floor. Blinking to disperse the rest, you carefully got back up on your feet without putting any weight on your bad leg. You hopped over to the bar and used it to balance yourself on your way to the audio installation. The silence weighed heavily on your shoulders after you switched it off, as if the very music you had been dancing to was reproaching you for your shortcomings. Grimacing, you hopscotched your way over to the changing rooms, hoping a cold shower would take the edge off the pain.

You clenched your teeth glaring at the faucet, and turned the dial all the way to the other side. Shivering, you took a deep breath to keep yourself from pulling your leg away from under the freezing stream. The harsh contrast between the steaming cubicle and the water hitting your knee was made all the worse by its inefficacy: your toes were beginning to go numb, but your knee was still throbbing fiercely. With a frustrated groan, you turned off the shower and hopped your way over to your bag, taking your time to dry off and get dressed. Not that you had much of a choice: any wrong move caused a jolt of pain reminding you that you were damaged goods. Your frustration turned to anger, making your movements abrupt and crude. With each new shot of pain, you became more upset with yourself and your knee. But it were the memories of that driver that had you throw your sweaty sportswear into your bag with more force than necessary. Damn bastard never even formally apologised to you. All contact was done exclusively through his daddy’s lawyer; anything to keep the family name out of the tabloids.

Your rage fuels your limp to the front door, where the dark glass reflects the bitter grimace on your face (back at you), offering one last chance to change it before showing it to the rest of the world.

“Fuck everyone.”

 

The stormy weather fitted your mood. The thick blanket of low-hanging clouds pregnant with rain and the howling wind have the sensible part of your mind wonder if you should just call someone to come pick you up. You frowned even more and continued your hobbling advance towards the bus stop. You got yourself into this mess, you could get yourself out of it. You weren’t some damsel in distress, you didn’t need saving. You were perfectly able to get yourself home, even if it felt like a burning dagger had been stuck in your knee.

Your limp worsened with each step you took, what little pain you had managed to dull returning with a vengeance. Just a little further, you could do this; just a little further, one step at a time; just a little further, you kept repeating to yourself as you slowly but surely drew closer to the bus stop. That is, until a sudden voice calling out your name interrupted your mantra and had you looking over your shoulder.

Behind you, on the other side of the street, stood Alex. There was something… different about her. But you didn’t have time to figure out what it was before she crossed the street without looking, one arm waving enthusiastically. Instantly, your eyes widened, your breath hitched in your throat; your mind blanked. Frozen in place you felt a tidal wave of ice crash over you as fear gripped your throat and your chest. Your heart beat once. Your head whipped left and right, eyes frantically scanning the street for any sign of movement, hands shaking.

A scream stuck in your throat, choking you.

Her feet stepped onto the sidewalk. Safe.

You melted with a shaky sigh, tears stinging your eyes as Alex closed the remaining distance between you to pull you into a hug. The unexpected shift in weight made you hiss in pain, effectively snapping your attention back to the there and then. You pulled back from the hug enough to see Alex’s brows knitted together in worry, all her excitement replaced by concern. _Fuck._

“Hey, are you okay?”

Your mind felt dazed as it scrambled to find an answer, mouth soundlessly opening and closing. Before you could say anything, a loud crack resonated right above you, immediately followed by a deep, threatening rumble: you were minutes, maybe even seconds away from getting soaked in what promised to be quite the downpour.

“Really?!” Alex yelled at the sky before grabbing your hand. “You’re gonna do this now? This fucking weather I swear! Come on!”

She made a break for the nearby café, pulling you along. Blinding pain had you gasping as you’re forced to put your entire weight on your bad leg in order to keep up. But you grind your teeth, channel your unspent rush of adrenaline to push through it, and follow her into the coffee-scented warmth just as thick drops began to darken the pavement.

Your entire leg is burning, and you pull your hand out of Alex’s grip before balancing all your weight onto your good leg. With a practised nudge you have the shoulder bag to rest against your back rather than your hip. Your fingers dig into the strap, jaw clenched and eyes low. Shit, this was bad. Why did Alex have to be there? The bus stop was at the street corner, you had almost made it.

When Alex turned around to look at you, her brows pinched together again. How were you going to explain this without having to explain _everything_? She moved closer and put a cautious hand on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice soft and full of uncertainty.

Trying and failing to suppress a grimace you look away. As you struggled to think of the shortest answer you could give her, you were distracted by the sleek dark-and-ivory colour scheme: you knew this café, it was where you used to hang out after dancing classes. Being back filled you with a strange kind of comfort.

The door chimed again behind you, soon followed by the hurried squeaking of wet shoes. Someone bumped into you, upsetting your balance. You heard a man snarl something, but you couldn’t make out the words: the white-hot blade of pain stabbed at your knee hard enough to make it give out completely. A pair of arms caught you before the floor did, your fingers instinctively digging into them and your face scrunching up. With deep, deliberate breaths, you forced your jaw to slowly unclench.

Voices were yelling at each other, and a sweet fruity smell was overpowering the scent of coffee and spices. Opening your eyes, you find you had rested your head on Alex’s shoulder.

“No! You should’ve watched where you were going!”

“She shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the doorway!”

“Sir, ma’am, please - there is no need for yelling.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw a nervous waiter standing next to Alex and a greying man in a business suit, no doubt the person who had knocked into you. The waiter looked young and inexperienced, judging by his hunched shoulders, fidgeting fingers, and his watery eyes. Poor guy was clearly in over his head, he probably never had to deal with customers arguing with each other before. Not that it was a common thing in this café, at least not in the time you frequented it. You noticed the Gatekeeper – as you had lovingly nicknamed him when you were younger – step away from his lectern by the private booths area and begin walking towards you. Things were just getting better and better; maybe you could resolve the conflict before he’d get actively involved as well.

“Hey! Dude,” you said, pushing yourself off Alex and turning towards the man in the suit. “Obviously your parents didn’t tell you this growing up, but the polite thing to do when you run into someone is to apologise. Especially when that someone is visibly in pain because of you.”

“Oh, stop your whining, you’re fine!”

“How is she fine!” Alex retorted as you narrowed your eyes into a glare. Looking at him straight in the eye, you lifted the hem of your skirt to reveal your swollen and scarred knee, encaged in its mechanical brace. His eyes widened at the sight, and Alex let out a soft gasp.

“ _Please_ ,” you say in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Do tell me all about how fine I am. Because, _clearly_ , you’re expert here.”

A heavy silence fell for a long moment, the background jazzy tunes coming from the speakers doing little to ease the tension. Most of the customers and staff close by were either annoyed by the commotion your argument caused or actively listening in. Why were people always so damn interested in the misfortunes of others?

“Excuse me.”

_Fuck._

“What seems to be the problem?”

The Gatekeeper had arrived, great.

The businessman, caught off guard by the new, deeper voice, whipped around in surprise to find the elder waiter standing just a tad bit too close for comfort. Now that the Gatekeeper was near, you could see lines on his forehead and around his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time you had seen him. It probably wouldn’t be much longer until he retired. Yet, despite his age, or maybe because of it, he still retained his aura of authority, with his straight stance and sharp eyes.

“…I’m sorry,” the man finally sighs, hanging his head. “I had a horrible day at the office, then the rain started, and I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I bumped into this woman by accident, and I blamed her for it.” Turning towards you, he continued: “I’m sorry for… I hope your knee gets better soon.”

You nodded once in acknowledgement and let your skirt fall down to settle around your ankles. The man nodded back, and then walked over to the counter. The waiter was still standing by awkwardly, that is until the Gatekeeper put his hand on the boy’s shoulder making him flinch. “Miss, please accept my sincerest apologies for receiving such a poor reception upon your arrival at _The Grind_. May I take the liberty of having my colleague get you some ice for your knee?”

“Yes, please…” you answered softly.

The younger waiter hurried off. Even after all this time, you couldn’t help but feel a little timid around the Gatekeeper; he made you feel like you were a teen all over again. You had never been a member, so your visits to the private areas had been few and far between. Even Alex seemed a bit affected by the Gatekeeper’s aura.

“Ma’am, given the circumstances, and to remedy the unfortunate mishap, I’d like to extend a… special invitation to you and your friend, if you’d wish to accept it.”

“I…” You knew he was offering you access to the private booths in the back, away from all the hustle and bustle of the front area. You weren’t sure how to respond: on the one hand, you didn’t want any special treatment, but on the other you couldn’t be asked to deal with all the stares you were bound to get if you sat at a regular table, especially with the front windows providing passers-by quite the view. “Uhm… I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

With Alex supporting you as best as she could, you limped along as the Gatekeeper led you to the nearest empty booth. The Gatekeeper handed Alex a small tablet meant for placing orders while you took off your shoe without moving your knee too much - something you had become quite skilled at, but which didn’t make it hurt any less. Still, there was no way you were putting your dirty shoe on the pristine burgundy cushions. The young waiter returned with a zip-bag full of ice and a towel just as you were removing the brace from your leg, putting it on top of your bag next to your shoe.

“Thank you.”

He offered you a faint smile you weren’t sure if it was meant to encourage you or himself. He didn’t stick around long enough for you to decide – not that it mattered anyway.

Slowly setting the ice on your knee, you glanced over at Alex as she looked at everything except you, especially the way you sat with your back against the wall and your leg outstretched before you. With a surprised blink, you finally realised what was different about her.

“You got coloured dreads!”

Startled by your sudden statement, Alex stopped her study of the ivory granite table top. A grateful smile spread across her features, tension leaving her shoulders.

“Yeah, I just got them done! Like them?” she asked, pulling all of her dreads over her shoulder and giving you a sultry look that made you laugh. The lighter colour is in beautiful contrast to the dark hue of her skin.

“They look great, they’re such a beautiful shade of turquoise!”

“Thank you! It’s my favourite colour. I love having it braided into my hair, but it is so expensive to get done and maintained. Made some good money taxi dancing this month, though, so I figured I’d treat myself!”

You smiled at her; maybe it was a good thing she spotted you. If you had just gone home, you would’ve been stuck being mad at yourself until Willow would have returned from the hospital. Not to mention you would’ve been soaked to the bone before you would’ve reached the bus stop. Deciding to follow Alex’s example, you held out your hand for the tablet: “Speaking of treats - give me that tablet! I am craving their signature hot chocolate and brownies!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is very welcome and much appreciated!  
> A special thank you to [ Social_Hermit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Social_Hermit/pseuds/Social_Hermit), [ Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge) and [ Cenerea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cenerea/pseuds/Cenerea) for being awesome beta readers!
> 
> Come join us at the [These Violent Delights Discord sever](https://discord.gg/FXQTFJE)! It’s a cosy little place where you can talk with other fans, share your favourite cocktail recipes and ask the characters that one burning question. 
> 
> Also, a huge shoutout to [ audaciousanonj](https://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/) for [ this amazing piece of art](http://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/post/181386151471/here-it-is-my-undertailsecretsanta-for) she created.
> 
> If you like this story, please check out my previous one [Wings of Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895625/chapters/22182890)  
> For random stuff, the occasional life update and RP's with my OC Angel check out [my Tumblr](https://wings-of-life.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. Sipping The Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting to know Alex over a mug of hot chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has taken forever, but I hope you'll enjoy the chapter nonetheless!

You took a careful bite of your warm brownie and closed your eyes for a moment, feeling eighteen all over again. They were even better than you remembered and a soft moan escaped your lips. A chuckle interrupted your chocolate-induced flash from the past and you found Alex watching you, her eyes crinkled in amusement.

“That good, huh?”

“I haven’t had these since my going away party, okay?” you answered without swallowing, holding a hand in front of your mouth instead. She let out a wistful sigh, her gaze becoming unfocused. Arching your brows, you were about to offer her half of the brownie when she said: “Must have been amazing, going to LA… Performing there…”

Your throat tightened at the memory. You swallowed with a bit of effort, laid down your fork and wrapped your fingers around your mug of cocoa, staring into it vacantly.

“It was…” Your voice sounded small and sad, even to you.

Alex refocused on you and her cheeks turned a little darker.

“O-M-G! I’m so sorry!” she began, but you raised your hand and gave her a gentle smile.

“It’s okay. It was fun while it lasted… I was lucky enough to live my dream, even if it was only for a short while…”

Her full lips pressed together and pulled down at the edges while she held her vanilla latte. You knew what she wanted to ask so you waited to see if she would.

You saw the Gatekeeper greeted a new customer, a young woman with a dripping pixie cut. He swiped her golden membership card through a reader, guided her to an empty booth and handed her a tablet. Excusing himself he walked away, past his post and disappearing from your view.

“What happened?”

You closed your eyes.

You can feel the sun beating down on you, heat rising up from the asphalt.

People started screaming.

Someone cried out your name in terror.

Tears stung your eyes and you forced your mind to focus on your breathing. In and out. In and out. It was just a memory. You were safe. Slowly, your muscles began to relax again. A soft female chuckle interrupted your thoughts. Confused and curious you opened your eyes and spotted the Gatekeeper standing by the booth of the young woman who had gotten caught in the rain. He was handing her a towel. You smiled faintly, taking one last deep breath you exhaled slowly.

“Car accident. I was crossing the street; I had the green light… He didn’t care…”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Alex struggling for words. You fought a grimace; you didn’t want to see the pained look she was giving you. You didn’t want to be pitied.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t, but it also wasn’t her fault. The awkward silence returned with a vengeance, making you glad you had only shared the bare minimum of what had happened. You took a long sip of your hot chocolate to make up for the silence.

“So… Are you expecting anything special for Valentine’s Day?” She picked up the chocolate heart that came with your drinks and held it by her face, “It’s is just a few days away, and love is in the air.”

She wiggled her brows at you as you lowered your mug. You gave her a faint smile.

“Other than Willow’s annual gag gift? No, not really.” You shrugged and leaned forward, “What about you? Are you hoping to become someone’s Valentine?”

“Ugh, quite the opposite actually,” she huffed. “There’s this guy in one of my classes who won’t take a hint. And I just know he’s going to try and give me a rose or something.”

You winced at her predicament. Unwanted declarations of love were such a social nightmare, especially when you’re on the receiving end.

“Maybe it will be anonymously?”

“I hope so…” She popped the chocolate in her mouth, a cheeky smile forming slowly. “So, you’re really not expecting anything?”

“No,” you answered honestly, “Why?”

Had one of your regular clients said something while you weren’t around? The idea alone was enough to send your mind into a frenzy.

“You _really_ don’t think Sans is going to give you something special?”

Your mind came to a screeching halt before going as blank as your expression. There was a glint in her eyes that betrayed that she had wanted to ask you about this for a while now.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on!” She threw her hands in the air as if it should be obvious, “Sans is _clearly_ into you.”

You blinked in surprise at that statement and thought back to your interactions with Sans so far.

_Fuck…_

You were ready to tell her she had got it all wrong but he _did_ call you “a treat” when you first met him. Dubious compliment, especially when you barely knew each other’s name. He came to comfort you when you ran from the bar; he had entertained you for the rest of the night and then insisted on getting you home safe. He had even texted you asking if you were okay when you hadn’t shown up for work yesterday. With a groan, you leaned your head against the wall making Alex chuckle.

“Aww, Sans isn’t that bad!” You could hear the amusement in her voice. “I think you’d make a cute couple.”

“Great, but I’m not interested in Sans.”

“It’s not because he’s a monster, right?”

“What?! No!” You sat up indignant. Well, maybe that was a small part of it, but you weren’t going to admit to that! “It’s just…”

Last night’s dream popped into your head and for a split second you could feel the warmth of his purple flames again. You clenched your jaw as you felt your cheeks flush.

“Oh!”

_Fuck all kinds of duck._

You took the ice pack off your knee to avoid making eye contact.

“Who?”

Alex was leaning forward enough that she risked knocking over her mug. The grin on her face was so broad that the Cheshire Cat would’ve envied it.

“No one,” you said, annoyed that your cheeks were still warm.

“Uh-huh.”

“Please?”

“Okay, fine,” she eased up, holding her hands up in surrender and sitting back again, “But, just so you know, Sans did ask about you yesterday. I’m just saying. It’s something to keep in mind, in case your little crush doesn’t pan out.”

You let out a deep sigh, resting your head in your hand. Meanwhile, Alex sipped her latte as her grin turned into a smug smile.

Sure, Sans had been very kind to you during your breakdown but that didn’t mean that he was _interested_ in you. You’d seen him at the club: the skeleton was possibly a bigger man-whore than Grillby! It was rare for him to leave the club without having his arm around the waist of some, new, usually human, woman. Even if he were interested in you, it was probably for nothing more than a one-nightstand.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“Sure.” She shrugged. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Uhm…” You scrambled to find a safe subject and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “What made you want to work at The Manor?”

She blinked in surprise. Her smile dimmed and she shrugged again. “The salary mostly, but also the hours. They’re compatible with my class schedule.”

So, for her, it was more of an easy way to make money, as Mr Barton had said during your first rehearsal. Dancing was your passion. It was strange to be in a troupe in which not everyone felt like that.

“What are you studying?”

“Graphic design, and let me guess.” She pointed a finger at you for dramatic effect leaning forward a little. “You went to some fancy dance academy in LA.”

“Not really,” you admitted, amused by her assumption. “I never went to college, actually. I was offered a contract shortly before graduation.”

“Damn giiiiiiiiiiirl! Making them dolla-dollar bills right after graduation. Must have been nice becoming financially stable that fast.”

“Thankfully, I still am, which allowed me to get an apartment with my best friend. I mean, don’t get me wrong, my parents are amazing for supporting my love for dancing, and I love them dearly, but it’s really weird living with them again after getting used to living on your own, you know?”

There was a sad smile on Alex’s lips that you couldn’t quite place. Silence settled over both of you as you wondered if you had accidentally upset her. Maybe your little tangent had made her homesick? Or maybe she had a sibling that had recently moved out and she missed them?

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No!” Came the immediate answer, just a little too fast. “No, it’s just that I still live at home with my parents… And my siblings… And my grandparents…” She broke eye contact to look at her drink and let out a heavy sigh. “I love them, of course, and it can be great having everybody in one place. Family is important, no question, but I won’t deny it… Sometimes living on my own sounds like absolute heaven.”

You gave her a sympathetic smile. You weren’t familiar with her exact situation, but you could relate to her desire for space and privacy.

“Well, maybe you can find a roommate and look for an apartment together? Having more than one income makes a lot of places more affordable.”

The sad smile came back.

“It’s not… I…” She let out a sigh, turning her head away, her shoulders slumping, “Never mind, you wouldn’t understand….”

“I wouldn’t understand what?” you asked, feeling challenged, your tone more pointed than you had intended.

“Money issues,” she snapped, looking straight at you, “I’m working at The Manor to help support my parents, okay?!”

“And why wouldn’t I understand that?” you asked, confused and slightly offended. It wasn’t an uncommon thing. Sure, you wouldn’t have guessed that that was the reason, but still.

“Because!” She sighed and threw up her hands before slumping back in her seat. After a moment of silence, she continued in a tired voice: “You’re Miss LA! You got to dance with Mr Barton since you were a toddler, became good enough to go professional and moved to fucking LA straight after graduation! What would you know about money issues?!”

You raised your brows. Maintaining eye contact with her as you sat up.

“For your information,” you said with a just a hint of ice in your voice. “I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I worked at the dance school to help afford my lessons.”

Alex blinked in surprise.

“Mr Barton saw my potential shortly after I started taking lessons once a week. My parents couldn’t afford more, he offered to teach me five days a week anyway. In return, he asked that I would be completely committed to my lessons and that I would help out around the school when I was old enough to do so. He made it sound like I would be working to pay off the extra lessons but looking back there is no way the work I did could’ve covered more than a quarter of what I’ve cost him. Mr Barton is a good man and I am fully aware of how lucky I am. Without his generosity, I would never have been able to get to where I am. Even if right now I’m back to square one…”

With a huff, mostly out of frustration at your own situation, you sat back against the wall. Glancing at the clock on the opposite wall, you noticed it was getting late. You drank what was left of your hot chocolate and hoped that the rain had let up a least a little. The clinking of porcelain and cutlery, the murmur of the other customers and the gentle jazz in the background blocked out any noise from the outside world. Not that the weather mattered: you wanted to be home before Willow. Ignoring your fork, you ate your now cold brownie in two big bites.

“You’re leaving?” Alex asked in a small voice.

When you looked up from fastening your brace you saw her biting her lip as she shifted her dreads over her shoulder. You swallowed the last of your brownie and answered matter-of-factly: “I need to get home. I don’t want Willow to worry when she gets home and sees I’m not there. I didn’t leave a note when I left.”

Scooting over to the edge of the booth you carefully bent your knee, doing your best to keep a straight face. It still hurt, a _lot_. The icepack had managed to dull some of the pain but didn’t take it away completely. Walking to the bus stop was going to be fun, especially if the rain hadn’t let up yet.

You slowly stood up, and with a deep breath put some weight on your bad leg. There was a strange numbness in your knee, like it wasn’t there but you were still very much aware of its movements. You exhaled. With a bit of luck, you estimated you could at least make it to the bus stop before the numbness wore off completely. Before you could pick up your bag, Alex slid out of the booth too, holding up a hand.

“Wait! Let me at least carry your bag for you,” she offered. You sighed and were about to tell her that you were perfectly capable of doing that on your own, but then you looked at her. She was fidgeting with her sleeve and still biting her lip, as if something was bothering her. Was she really that worried about you getting yourself home?

“Okay,” you said, and let her take your bag. The world may have been a bitch to you today, but that didn’t give you the right to be one to her, more than you already had been that is.

As you hobbled over to the cash register, you noticed that the Gatekeeper surprisingly wasn’t at his post.

Despite Alex’s protests, you paid for both of you. You may not have been born in a wealthy family, but you were most certainly in a much better financial situation than she was. Just as the cheerful Latina manning the register wished you a good day, the Gatekeeper emerged from a door marked “employees’ only” with a black umbrella in hand. Glancing at the front windows, you noticed that you could barely see the sidewalk for how hard it was still raining. It was official: today hated you just as much as you hated it.

“Be safe, ladies,” he said as he offered Alex the umbrella.

“Thank you…” you both said softly, feeling very self-conscious as well as grateful. At least now you wouldn’t be soaked within seconds.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is very welcome and much appreciated!  
> A special thank you to [ Social_Hermit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Social_Hermit/pseuds/Social_Hermit), [ Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zippy_the_invisible_talking_Fridge) and [ Cenerea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cenerea/pseuds/Cenerea) for being awesome beta readers!
> 
> Come join us at the [These Violent Delights Discord sever](https://discord.gg/FXQTFJE)! It’s a cosy little place where you can talk with other fans, share your favourite cocktail recipes and ask the characters that one burning question. 
> 
> Also, a huge shoutout to [ audaciousanonj](https://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/) for [ this amazing piece of art](http://audaciousanonj.tumblr.com/post/181386151471/here-it-is-my-undertailsecretsanta-for) she created.
> 
> If you like this story, please check out my previous one [Wings of Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9895625/chapters/22182890)  
> For random stuff, the occasional life update and RP's with my OC Angel check out [my Tumblr](https://wings-of-life.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
